Cas.

Hath Cassius liv'd

To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus, When grief, and blood ill temper'd, vexeth him? Bru. When I spoke that, I was ill temper'd too. Cas. Do you confess so much? Give me your hand. Bru. And my heart too.

Cas.

Bru.

O Brutus!

What's the matter?

Cas. Have you not love enough to bear with me, When that rash humour, which my mother gave me, Makes me forgetful?

your

Bru. Yes, Cassius; and, from henceforth,
When you are over earnest with Brutus,
He'll think your mother chides, and leave you so.
[Noise within.
Poet. [Within.] Let me go in to see the generals;
There is some grudge between them, 'tis not meet
They be alone.

Luc. [Within.] You shall not come to them.
Poet. [Within.] Nothing but death shall stay me.

Enter Poets.

Cas. How now? What's the matter?

Poet. For shame, you generals; What do you mean?

Love, and be friends, as two such men should be; For I have seen more years, I am sure, than ye9. Cas. Ha, ha; how vilely doth this cynick rhyme!

8 Shakspeare found the present incident in Plutarch. The intruder, however, was Marcus Phaonius, who had been a friend and follower of Cato; not a poet, but one who assumed the character of a cynick philosopher.

9 This passage is a translation from the following one in the

first book of Homer's Iliad:

̔Αλλὰ πιθεσθ. ̓ ἄμφω δὲ νεωτέρω ἐσὸν εμεῖο:
Which is thus given in Sir Thomas North's Plutarch :-
My lords, I pray you hearken both to me,
For I have seen more years than such ye three.'

Bru. Get you hence, sirrah; saucy fellow, hence. Cas. Bear with him, Brutus; 'tis his fashion. Bru. I'll know his humour, when he knows his time. What should the wars do with these jigging fools 10? Companion 11, hence.

Cas.

Away, away, be gone.

[Exit Poet.

Enter LUCILIUS and TITINIUS.

Bru. Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders Prepare to lodge their companies to-night.

Cas. And come yourselves, and bring Messala with you

Immediately to us.

If

Bru.

[Exeunt LUCILIUS and TITINIUS.

Lucius, a bowl of wine.

Cas. I did not think you could have been so angry.
Bru. O Cassius, I am sick of many griefs.
Cas. Of your philosophy you make no use,

you give place to accidental evils.

Bru. No man bears sorrow better:-Portia is dead.

Cas. Ha! Portia?

Bru. She is dead.

Cas. How scap'd I killing, when I cross'd you so?

O insupportable and touching loss !—

Upon what sickness?

Bru. Impatient of my absence; And grief, that young Octavius with Mark Antony Have made themselves so strong;-for with her death

10 i. e. these silly poets. A jig signified a ballad or ditty, as well as a dance. See note on Hamlet, Act ii. Sc. 2.

11 Companion is used as a term of contempt in many of the old plays; as we say at present fellow! Doll Tearsheet says to Pistol:

I scorn you, scurvy companion,' &c.

That tidings came;-With this she fell distract, And, her attendants absent, swallow'd fire 12. Cas. And died so?

Enter LUCIUS, with Wine and Tapers. Bru. Speak no more of her.-Give me a bowl of wine:

In this I bury all unkindness, Cassius.

[Drinks.

Cas. My heart is thirsty for that noble pledge :-~Fill, Lucius, till the wine o'erswell the cup; I cannot drink too much of Brutus' love. [Drinks.

Re-enter TITINIUS, with MESSala.

Bru. Come in, Titinius:-Welcome, good Mes

sala.

Now sit we close about this taper here,

And call in question our necessities.
Cas. Portia, art thou gone?

Bru.
No more, I pray you.—
Messala, I have here received letters,
That young Octavius, and Mark Antony,
Come down upon us with a mighty power,
Bending their expedition toward Philippi.

Mes. Myself have letters of the selfsame tenour. Bru. With what addition?

Mes. That by proscription, and bills of outlawry, Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus,

Have put to death an hundred senators.

Bru. Therein our letters do not well agree;
Mine speak of seventy senators, that died
By their proscriptions, Cicero being one.

12 This circumstance is taken from Plutarch. It is also mentioned by Valerius Maximus, iv. 6. Portia is however reported by Pliny to have died at Rome of a lingering illness while Brutus was abroad.

Cas. Cicero one?

Mes.

Ay, Cicero is dead,

And by that order of proscription.

Had you your letters from your wife, my lord?
Bru. No, Messala.

Mes. Nor nothing in your letters writ of her?

Bru. Nothing, Messala.

Mes.

That, methinks, is strange.

Bru. Why ask you? Hear you aught of her in

yours?

Mes. No, my lord.

Bru. Now, as you are a Roman, tell me true. Mes. Then like a Roman bear the truth I tell: For certain she is dead, and by strange manner. Bru. Why, farewell, Portia.-We must die, Messala:

13

With meditating that she must die once 13,

I have the patience to endure it now.

Mes. Even so great men great losses should endure. Cas. I have as much of this in art 14 as you, But yet my nature could not bear it so.

Bru. Well, to our work alive. What do you

Of marching to Philippi presently?

Cas. I do not think it good.

Bru.

Cas.

think

Your reason?

This it is:

'Tis better that the enemy seek us:

So shall he waste his means, weary his soldiers,
Doing himself offence; whilst we, lying still,

Are full of rest, defence, and nimbleness.

Bru. Good reasons must, of force, give place to better.

13 i. e. at some time or other. So in The Merry Wives of Windsor, vol. i. p. 250 :

" 111

1

I pray thee, once to-night
Give my sweet Nan this ring.'

14 In art, that is, in theory.

The people, 'twixt Philippi and this ground,
Do stand but in a forc'd affection;
For they have grudg'd us contribution:
The enemy, marching along by them,
By them shall make a fuller number up,
Come on refresh'd, new added, and encourag'd;
From which advantage shall we cut him off,
If at Philippi we do face him there,

These people at our back.

Cas.

Hear me, good brother.
Bru. Under your pardon.-You must note beside,
That we have try'd the utmost of our friends,
Our legions are brim full, our cause is ripe:
The enemy increaseth every day,

We, at the height, are ready to decline.
There is a tide in the affairs of men,

Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows, and in miseries 15.
On such a full sea are we now afloat;

And we must take the current when it serves,
Or lose our ventures.

Cas.

Then, with your will, go on; We'll along ourselves, and meet them at Philippi.

15 Beaumont and Fletcher have more than once imitated this passage, but with very little success:

There is an hour in each man's life appointed

To make his happiness, if then he seize it,' &c.

Custom of the Country.
Consider then, and quickly:

And like a wise man take the current with you,
Which once turn'd head will sink you.'

Bloody Brother. A similar sentiment is found in Chapman's Bussy d'Ambois, 1607 :

There is a deep nick in time's restless wheel,

For each man's good, when which nick comes, it strikes,
So no man riseth by his real merit,

But when it cries click in the raiser's spirit.'